Free Reprise by C.D. Breadner Page A

After that we take the entire thing into San Francisco. We’re in Ventura County the whole time.”
    “Bastard Banshees know we’re coming,” Jayce informed the entire group, unnecessarily. “They currently have a truce with their G-Town contingent in ‘Frisco. We just do our thing and get the fuck out.”
    “We split at San Francisco limits on approach,” Tiny went on. “Half head up north, then circle back on our ass end. Just in case we get a tail.”
    “Any reason to be worried about that?” Buck asked.
    Jayce answered. “Nah. Just playing safe. I’d like to see what follows us to the drop.”
    “Where’s it going?”
    Tiny leaned forward on his elbows, eyes on Buck. “Some Russian-owned titty bar on Darrow Avenue. It’s a short street, only three blocks long. Not hard to find a strip club, even in the daytime without the neon lit up. Spaz has the map for everyone to memorize before we go. There’s a truck dock on the back of the building. I can back down an alley right to it, but there’s a cross-way alley that makes me nervous.”
    “So we block both ends,” Knuckles finished the plan and everyone was slowly nodding in accord.
    Kuttes were left behind. Tiny donned his work pants and a button-down with his road name embroidered over the pocket. His standard work attire, paired up with beaten to shit, steel-toed work boots. The rig had been pulled into the clubhouse lot the night before. He flipped open the hidden compartment under the driver’s side step, and his brothers all placed their favorite, and varied, handguns inside. Then he locked the top and fitted the rubber grip step back in place. His was a truck and driver for hire, so there was no company decal on the doors.
    The route to the pick-up was usually stress-free. Their formation was loose, a few riders out front, skipping around traffic to get ahead then falling back again. No real staunch structure. The ride to the drop was the one that made them twitchy. They never knew what they were transporting, but they did know that fucking up would be a career limiting move within the Sachetti network.
    He let the crew that was rolling with him head out first. If Turnbull was out to hassle them, he’d be good and distracted by the time Tiny rolled by. Buck, Knuckles, Spaz, Fritter, Tims and Red peeled out in an unholy roar of horsepower. Jayce was standing next to the driver’s door when Tiny finished his quick walk-around inspection; no lights burned out, license plate clear and readable.
    “What’s up?” he asked, pulling off his work gloves and running a hand over his hair. It wasn’t strange for the boss to see him off before a run, but Jayce had the look of a man who wanted to have a chat.
    “Knuckles. Your honest opinion. He okay?”
    Tiny crossed his arms. “Have you heard or seen something—”
    “No, nothing like that. But you’re the one that picked him up right afterwards.”
    He exhaled, not liking this gossiping behind a brother’s back. Made him feel like a bitch, but Jayce was asking out of concern for all of them, so it was hard to fault the guy for that.
    “He’s compartmentalizing,” Tiny finally answered. “Just like when he does a hit for us. He said those ones are easier though, because he knows it’s for the club. These ones, he doesn’t know the why . It’s not personal. It’s not self-defense.” Tiny shrugged both shoulders. “He’s making a different compartment for them. That’s the way I understand it.”
    “It’s easy to think he’s just nuts so it won’t bother him,” Jayce mused, biting his lip, gears turning. “But he turned to nasty shit in the past to get over what he had to do.”
    Tiny nodded. “Yeah. He was scared at one time. Now he’s been through that rabbit hole. He doesn’t want to go back. He finds his solace in other ways now.”
    “Like what?”
    Tiny had to chuckle. “Two or three women seems to do the trick.”
    Jayce crackled a grin and jogged his arm. “Yeah, that